Wake Me Up When You Remember
by Another Night Without You
Summary: He was Zexion, a 18 years old college student at day, and a dream traveler at night. One night, he met a new dreamer, Demyx. Weird thing happened: mysterious voices came into Demyx's dream, but unfortunately Zexion didn't know what was the cause. But then, Zexion experienced the voices himself. Something must be terribly wrong. Zexion/Demyx, multi chapter. Review please!


**Wake Me Up When You Remember**

**Chapter I –When/If I Remember You**

He had finished his dinner and just brushed his teeth. He had worn his pajamas (a cute one, quite surprising for a male like him) and turned off the lamp on his room. _What a tiring day, _he thought. He swept his fringe off to the side of his face (even though it eventually fell back) and climbed his soft, fluffy bed. Instantly, he fell asleep comfortably.

In the other world, he was widely awake.

He was Zexion, a 18 years old college student at day, and a _dream traveler _at night. He spent his day at college, counting, calculating, and studying in his languorous, boring life. But at night, he was actively walking, moving from one dream to another, astonished by the lively dreams people had—something he couldn't have created by his own flat, monochromatic mind.

The first time he realized that he could travel into people's dreams was when he was only 7 years old. Little Zexion told that to his parents, but none believed him. He looked all over the places, trying to find out what was wrong with him. But he couldn't find anything related to his gift. Eventually, he gave up finding out about that. He enjoyed it, even.

Night by night, Zexion walked into people's dream, into literally every dream he encountered, looking for something he wasn't even sure of. But that was better compared to his day life, when everything was easily predicted—the same, never changing routine he had. In dreams, he could see what people wanted, what people feared, what people were thinking of or even what happened in their life before they went to sleep—they were all new and unpredicted. Zexion enjoyed the view; he could never get tired seeing them at night.

After eleven years of experience in dream traveling, Zexion had learned that there were absolute rules in the dream world: first, people would never remember Zexion being in their dream when they woke up (he had tried that plenty of times to his parents and friends). Second, people wouldn't remember what had happened in their previous dream. Third, the dreamer could easily change their dream however they want. However, there were plenty of things he hadn't known yet, like, what would happen if people die in their dreams? Or was there any way to make people remember his presence in their dreams? Zexion wasn't really interested in finding out the answers of the tingling questions despite his buzzing curiosity. So he just carried on and kept traveling, watching the beauty of dream world.

That night, for the first time of his eleven years in his life, he got very bored. The blue-steel haired man had seen his family's dreams, his friends', and even some strangers living near him. He needed a new entertainment, thus he decided to walk further, deeper into the wondrous world.

Upon walking on his bare feet, his ears caught some melodious tone. Curious and way beyond than interested, the teen headed to the source of the melodies. Between dreams, he finally found where it was from. From afar, he could see a teen (maybe he was just a college student like Zexion?) with sandy blonde hair styled into a spiky mullet was playing a blue string musical instrument on his trained hand. The man was playing his musical instrument while sitting on the edge of a wide fountain (the water sparkled under the sunlight beautifully, Zexion thought) and he was surrounded by people who, oddly enough, looked sorrowful. Slowly, Zexion approached the crowd and, unintentionally, lost in the harmony created by the stranger's fingers which were swiftly picking the strings, creating a magical song which Zexion had never heard.

He stayed standing up squeezed in the crowd, eyes closed, enjoying the music sipping into his mind, making it at ease. At least until the music stopped. It took him a few seconds to realization that the stranger had finished his song. Zexion finally fluttered his eyes open, only to meet a pair of bright blue eyes and a wide grin intended for him. Zexion blushed, being caught off guard and was thinking to leave immediately, but the blonde stranger grabbed his wrist.

"Hey, I've never seen you before," he didn't release his grip.

"Well," Zexion replied, "that couldn't be true. Your brain can't make new faces in dreams, we probably have met somewhere before."

The blonde teen snorted. "I know that already, but I can tell that you're different than people in my dream."

"How come?" Zexion doubted. He was afraid of him—he had been avoiding interacting to dreamers. But at the same time, it was also a reason of him deciding to keep the conversation going.

"You see, when I finished my music, people walked away and suddenly they forget about me. They don't talk to me." He pointed at some people who previously were listening to his act. "That happens every time I stop playing. Kinda sucks," he chuckled, but he sounded sad. "But the point is, you don't." The blonde's blue eyes were now observing Zexion's face carefully.

The blue-steel haired teen licked his lips—how could he explain it to the guy in front of him? There was no other way other than telling the truth, Zexion decided. Plus, the teen would forget everything when he woke up, anyway. In a brief time, Zexion explained everything to the blonde. Strange, explaining to a dreamer about himself, but it was definitely something Zexion hadn't done before, and it satisfied him for some reasons.

"Wow, that's cool!" The blonde seemed to be glowing with the excitement after Zexion finished his explanations. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself," he blushed sheepishly. "My name is Demyx," he said as he offered his hand.

Zexion shook it and managed to make a miniscule smile on his lips. "Zexion," he answered, short and clear. Deciding to quench his curiosity, Zexion asked, "So, Demyx, what kind of dream is this?"

"Huh?" Demyx appeared to be puzzled by the question.

"People have different kind of dreams: about their pasts, their likings, their lifes, their fears and such. What is this one about?"

The blonde scratched his head, trying to grasp the new information. "Uh, I'm not sure. Combination of them, I guess. We are in my hometown when I was a child, means it's my past. Me playing sitar here"—Zexion had just learned what was that musical instrument called—"means it's my liking. My friends watching me playing it, means it's about my life. But them forgetting me, means it's my fear." He shrugged.

Zexion nodded in amazement. People usually only dreamed one of them—at least one at a time and the other one on the next days—but Demyx's dream was quite complicated.

"How long do you think I've been sleeping?" Demyx pondered. He put his sitar down near his feet.

"Well, just as long as you're usually sleeping. It feels like forever in dream world, but believe me, you'll wake up before you realized it." Zexion smiled at him.

The blonde sighed. "Yeah, it does feel like forever and I kinda hope I'll wake up soon. It's lonely here, and sometimes this dream is getting weirder."

"Weird how?"

"You see, sometimes I hear voices calling my name and sometimes saying more stuff which I barely comprehend. The voices sounded sad and it makes me feel terrible for not being able to answer it." His shoulder drooped, brows furrowed.

The other teen swept his fringe and mused. Now, that was really weird—he had never experienced something like that. "What are they saying other than your name?"

"Something like 'come back' and 'I miss you'. Sometimes they are longer, but I can't really understand it, they're too long."

Just like magic, a moment after Demyx finished his sentence, some voices echoed throughout the sky.

'_Demyx,' _it called. _'we—don't—please—wa—ple—miss you—Demyx.'_

'_Come back—to—u—we—pl—myx'_

'_H—are—yo—we are—to—music—sitar—dem!'_

After a while, the voices went into complete gibberish and it faded out slowly. Demyx gestured to the sky.

"That's what I meant. I'm not really sure what they're trying to say." The blonde shook his head sadly.

"That's really weird," Zexion agreed. He, also, could sense the sadness in their voices.

"But the voices are familiar somehow. Like, I've heard them somewhere." Demyx added.

Zexion only shrugged: he might've be a dream traveler, but that was it, nothing more. He couldn't fill Demyx.

After that, both of them spent their time talking together. At first Zexion was hesitant—he knew that he had to wake up sooner or later (including Demyx, too) and Demyx would never remember him—but he was carried away by his new companion. Demyx told him various things about his life: his childhood, his parents, his hobby, fears, dreams, and ambitions, literally everything he could think of. And in return, Zexion told everything he knew about the dream world. The blue-steel haired teen wasn't tired of listening to Demyx's funny, interesting blabbering of the his life, but a familiar feeling was reaching to him, and it made him feel bad instantly.

"Hey, Dem," Zexion called, interrupting the blonde's chatter, "I think it's time for me to wake up."

Demyx's eyes went wide but after a couple of seconds his expression softened. His lips turned into a smile, but Zexion could tell that it was sadness in Demyx's cerulean eyes. "I see. Too bad I won't remember you the next time we meet, huh?"

"Yeah." Zexion nodded. "But don't worry, Dem, I remember about you."

"But that's really unfair for you. No one remembers you here," Demyx protested, lacing Zexion's fingers lightly.

"The same for you. Your 'friends' forget you when you stopped playing your sitar, right?" Zexion patted Demyx's shoulder lightly.

The blonde mused for a few seconds. "Yeah, my biggest fear. I'm afraid of oblivion, Zexion. But," he stared deeply into Zexion's eyes, "I know this is only a dream and my friends will remember me when I wake up. But you..." His voice trailed off.

"It's fine, I'm used with it," he lied. It wasn't fine. Demyx was a really interesting guy, and boy, did he wish he would see him again and talk to him on the other time. There was something interesting in Demyx and Zexion could feel something was different about him. But that was the dream world's rule, he didn't have any power to break it. The good-bye eventually had to be faced, Zexion thought sadly. He had to accept the fact that they might not ever meet again, and if they did, Demyx wouldn't remember a thing. "Maybe I can find you in real life, and I'll try to remind you there," Zexion chuckled.

"Sounds good, I hope my awake self will recognize you!" The blonde made a sincere laughter. "Okay then, see you later... uh, when I remember you." He added awkwardly.

"_If _you remember me," Zexion corrected. "Farewell, Demyx. You're such a nice man to talk to." The dream traveler stood up and made his way back, half-heartedly heading off from Demyx's cloud of dream.

"You too." Voice almost breaking, Demyx let Zexion walked away from his dream. "Good bye, Zexion, I'll miss you."

"Me too."

* * *

><p>AN: Review, please! I want to know if the plot is interesting enough :) I need another fic to switch writing back and forth so I won't get bored, but I promise everything will be written. I won't discontinue any of my fics! I had fun writing this fic, and I'll try to dig deeper into their personalities. I hope you enjoyed this new fic (and hey, it's not more than 3k words!), look forward for next chapter. –Anwy.


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